Chapter 6 Gun
SIX
GUN
I change my mind at the last possible second and dash after the dangerous feline. I bolt into the hallway barefoot and bleeding, still half-hard.
The door slams shut with a mechanical click—locked.
Fuck.
But I don’t even stop to think about it. I tear down the corridor, dodging room service carts and confused staff, following the phantom sound of her feet on carpet. My wound protests with every step, a burning ache in my side from where Jamie stabbed me.
Adrenaline thankfully drowns out most of the pain and makes it easier to keep going. All I see is the sway of her braids disappearing around the corner.
“Goyangi!” I shout. “Get your pretty little ass back here! You forgot to kiss me good night!”
But she’s already long gone, slipping out through the emergency exit. She shrinks into the distance, nothing more than a small black figure that soon blends into the midnight landscape.
“Fucking tease,” I growl under my breath. Sharp pain stings in my side as I turn and trudge back down the corridor.
I’ve dripped blood on the carpet and look like a madman in my boxers, clutching a handgun. A few guests have poked their heads out into the hall, and the staff that was once passing by have come to a stop.
One woman lifts her phone to snap a photo. The flash goes off and damn near blinds me.
“What are you looking at?” I snarl moodily. “Never seen a man get played by a knife-wielding sexy assassin before? There’s a first time for everything.”
I stalk past them with the indignant air of somebody wronged. As if it’s their fault I’m bleeding with a slash in my abdomen, wearing nothing more than my boxers and clutching a gun I just fired.
I try the handle to my hotel suite, already half-aware it’s probably not going to work. My suspicions turn out to be true.
The door won’t budge.
It’s fucking locked, and my keycard is inside.
So are the rest of my clothes and my phone.
I just had to chase after her. I just had to be so pussy-whipped I even intentionally missed the shot I took—and I haven’t even had a taste of her yet!
A scowl clenches onto my face as I think about what went down.
Things between us had been enjoyable until she had to go and ruin them. Couldn’t she have just fucked me like most women I pick up in nightclubs?
Why did she have to go and make the situation lethal?
…because she’s an assassin, you dumbass.
I head down to the lobby with more blood dribbling everywhere I go. Several businessmen give me disapproving shakes of their head, and one woman screams and flees like she’s in imminent danger.
Damn drama queen.
But I know what they’re thinking—the Hotel Dalbit is supposed to be one of the nicest hotels in the neighborhood. Hence why the Cheongryong has standing reservations here.
Yet here comes some bleeding gangster fucking it up.
The uniformed clerk behind the front desk eyes me like I’m an unruly street dog that’s been dragged indoors. Her nostrils twitch like she’s smelled something unpleasant. She must not realize who I am.
“Sir,” she says in Hangul with a forced polite bow of her head. “This hotel is an upscale establishment. We ask that you remove yourself from the premises or we will be calling the authorities.”
I heave a tedious sigh, then present my forearm on the front desk counter. The blue dragon inked on my skin is immediately recognizable. Her entire demeanor changes.
She gives three bows in quick succession. “Sir, please forgive me. I had no idea—what do you need? Medical attention? A shirt to wear? Would you like some complimentary champagne—?”
“Save the ass kissing,” I snap back in Hangul. “Just get me a new room key. Room 836—and the complimentary champagne too.”
Once she’s handed over the key, the champagne bottle, and offered several more profuse apologies, I head back toward the elevator. I’m boarding at the same time as an older couple who can’t stop staring like I’m some zoo animal.
The wife in horror. The husband perplexed, then outright amused.
He laughs and says in Hangul, “What woman has driven you crazy tonight?”
“It’s a long story,” I answer. “But the gist is, don’t trust beautiful women with claws.”
The husband hacks out a loud laugh that turns into a cough the moment his wife throws him a nasty glare.
Relief washes over me when I swipe the keycard and the little bulb on the lock flashes green.
I plod through the door like some exhausted menial worker who does back-breaking labor. But dealing with a woman like Jamie is just as tiring.
Clearly, the woman was playing a game all night long that I missed out on.
My first instincts were correct—she is dangerous. Though it’s not in the way I suspected.
I get it now.
She’s not just some sultry beauty with mystery and allure. She’s something else entirely.
Tonight was predator versus predator.
I was drawn to her not out of pure sexuality. But out of the violent instinct one killer has toward another, recognizing one of his kind in the wild.
Thinking back over how she’d watched me every moment, I know she recognized me too. She knew exactly who and what I was.
My fingers comb through my hair as I walk into the suite and realize the ache in my skull has grown worse.
“What the hell happened to you?”
The voice draws my gaze to the corner of the room, where Joon-gi stands sipping from a drink he’s made at the minibar.
Ignoring all the destruction we wreaked, like the smashed bottles, knocked over furniture, and puddle of blood on the floor.
I shoot him a disgruntled look as I collapse in a chair. “How the hell you’d get in?”
“One of the doumi’s in the hall let me in. All I had to do was smile and be nice. And tip her five thousand won.” Joon-gi glances at the slash mark on my stomach, then the gun in my hand. “You should try it sometime, my friend.”
“You’re one to talk. Usually, I’m the charmer.”
“Things go south with the American cutie? Or was she too kinky for your tastes?”
“Let’s just say things were going great… right up until she tried to murder me.”
Joon grins. “So she was very kinky, eh? I don’t mind a little pain.”
“Hey, are you an idiot?” I snap in Hangul. Then I switch back to English, no less irritated. “She’s a Black Suit.”
“A Black Suit as in…?”
“As in one of the bastards hired to take out members in the Cheongryong—yes, that kind of Black Suit,” I say, popping open the bottle of champagne. I take a quick swig before any of the fizzy drink spills out. “But not just any Black Suit. She’s Black Silk.”
Joon does a double take. “Black Silk? The Black Silk?”
“Is there any other? We’ve assumed it’s a man all this time. But think about it more clearly. What man calls himself Silk?”
“She was very… silky.” Joon rubs at the back of his neck, shaking his head. “So you believe tonight was all a ruse? She was luring us?”
“She was luring me. It was all by design.”
“Wow, we are in a James Bond movie. Do you realize that, Gun-woo?”
I roll my eyes as he goes on to tell me the plot of some old film starring Pierce Brosnan where some femme fatale character tried to crush his head between her legs.
“That doesn’t sound like a bad way to go,” Joon admits with a laugh.
“That would’ve been preferable to this.” I gesture to my stab wound. I get up from the chair and cross the room to grab a towel and wipe more of the blood. “Luckily, it’s not very deep. She could’ve slashed harder if she really wanted to hurt me.”
“Is that what the gun was for? You shot at her?”
“And missed.”
“Intentionally?” Joon’s eyes widen when I shoot him another disgruntled look. “Tch, Gun-woo. What would your appa say? He’d be pissed.”
“He’s not going to find out. I’m going to handle it—handle her—myself.”
A slow grin crawls onto his face as he snaps his fingers. “I know that look. That’s that bloodthirsty savage look. I haven’t forgotten what you did to those Dokkaebi Goblins when they overstepped into our territory. Strung them up like rabbits!”
“It was deserved for not knowing their place. Apparently, the feline doesn’t know her place either.”
“But she’s so beautiful and harmless looking. Will you really be able to hurt her?”
I cast aside the bloody towel I’ve used to apply pressure and stop the bleeding. Joon watches on as I move from the bathroom sink toward the long windows overlooking Seoul after hours.
It’s so late, the partiers are finally trickling out of the clubs and bars. They wander the streets competing for taxis and screaming into the night.
“I’ll not only hurt her,” I say, my voice calm but dangerous, “I’ll end her. Her days are numbered.”